Outtake after chapter 22
by RobsFan-tasy01
Summary: Unposted chapters from A Rendezvous with Death


**A Rendezvous with Death Outtakes**

**Chapter 1 – "Outtake from chapter 22"**

**AN: In this BPOV, we see what Bella went through before Edward meets her in the library for the first time. It would have been chapter 23 but, after much cussin' and discussin', Rita and I decided it would take the story a step back instead of the step forward we were all waiting for them to take together…finally! Special thanks to Rita01tx for all her hard work on this outtake!**

**Wednesday, June 5, 2013**

**BPOV**

What with Carrie's creepy behavior last night and the dark mist that had attempted to manifest right before my eyes, I was now certain my house was haunted. No way was I going to be able to sleep a wink. Hell, I didn't know which was worse, trying to sleep down the hall from Carrie when I was no longer certain she still was my sister, or staying awake with a gorgeous spirit loose in my house. Admittedly, the spirit hadn't harmed me in any way, so far. Since it had been less alarming than the look Carrie had given me, I decided trying to sleep down the hall from her was definitely worse.

Looking for peace of mind and a release for my troubles, I turned to the one thing that always brought me a sense of comfort, my art. I picked up my brush, pallet and a fresh canvas and began to paint. I'd never painted like this before, like I knew every brush stroke and color before I laid it down on the canvas. I didn't work hard at perfecting it like I usually did, it just was! Painting after painting flowed out of me through the tip of my brush and I had never been more proud of my creations. If only the subject matter weren't so disturbing.

My eyes danced from one canvas to another and I was shocked to see I'd painted every disturbing, spectral scenario I'd experienced since moving in here and, like my house, _he _haunted each and every one of them. In one, Sam and I were on the stairs investigating the hidden compartment while he stood sentinel at the top looking down on us approvingly. Sometimes, the painting became what it wanted to be rather than what I'd had in mind. Case in point, I'd had no intention of painting him with a favorable expression, it had just come out that way. In another painting, he stood at the foot of my bed watching me sleep, his face taut with anger. This I hadn't actually witnessed but I felt it to be true, probably from my first night in this house.

Despite having been up all night working frantically, I felt at calm but energized. Some weird sixth sense was telling me I was in danger but not as I feared. This set my nerves on edge. I couldn't explain it any better than that, I just knew I was right…but I was also wrong. What I needed was answers and the best place to start was the library. Once I had the basics, I could go online and follow Charlie's family tree all the way back to the source. It had become imperative for me to learn who had lived and died here. Only then could I figure out who haunted Magnolia Manor…_or what._ Shit!

That thought sent cold chills rippling down my spine.

Before I became aware of the time again, it was nearly noon and I'd completely run out of canvases. I was also quite hungry so, after cleaning my brushes, I made breakfast despite the late hour and sat down at the kitchen table to eat. As I enjoyed a lovely view of the giant magnolia tree in full bloom with massive white flowers, I thought it strange how bright everything looked outside yet inside, if you weren't looking out the windows, you'd swear it was a cloudy, overcast day. My plan for the morning was to spend a couple hours cleaning up the attic in hopes of finding information on Magnolia Manor's former occupants. I'd go to the library afterwards.

I'd just taken my first bite when Carrie entered the kitchen and sat down across from me, essentially blocking my view of the magnolia tree. This antebellum era house must be bringing out Carrie's Scarlet O'Hara side. Her hair lay in ringlets down her back while the sides were pulled back and held in place by a lace bow, of all things. The sleeveless blouse she was wearing had layers and layers of ruffles down the front with that gaudy necklace nestled among them. One of these days, she was going to lose that thing. If she wasn't going to sell it, I hoped she _did_ lose it. The damn thing made me uncomfortable.

"So, sister dear, how does one get served breakfast around here?" she asked.

How she managed to make a simple question sound so condescending, I didn't know but she did it well.

"It's on the stove. Help yourself," I shrugged.

Cocking one eyebrow, she looked at me as though I had lost my ever loving mind. Surely, she wasn't expecting to be waited on hand and foot. Looking distinctly perturbed at the very idea of having to go anywhere near the stove, let alone fix her own plate, she stood up abruptly and did just that. What the hell was with her? She was a freaking waitress, for God's sake!

"You slept really late today," I remarked just to make conversation. Like me, she was, by nature, an early riser.

"Yes, well, getting used to my new surroundings is quite tiresome," she sniffed.

She sat back down at the table with a slice of toast and a delicate teacup of coffee instead of a sturdy mug. Could she actually be suffering from jet lag? Having never flown myself, I wouldn't know what it felt like but it seemed to me she was sleeping far more than normal since she'd donned the necklace.

"So, I was thinking of getting a head start on cleaning out the attic today. I'd like to see if I can learn anything more about who lived here in the past. I don't suppose you'd be willing to join me so we could spend some time together?" I asked hopefully. If I could get her talking, I might discover what this weird, new attitude was all about. Maybe she was acting so strangely in attempt to woo a certain Southern gentleman by the name of Jacob Black. I'd have to observe them together to be sure but was a somewhat plausible explanation.

"_Me _clean? Surely you jest!" she gasped.

Well la-dee-fricken-dah! Who did she think she was, the Queen of Sheba?

"Carrie, you're a waitress! You serve food, bus tables and pick up other people's dirty dishes all day long for a living. What's your problem?" I protested. Her _holier than thou_ attitude was really starting to get up my nose.

"Not anymore. I'm starting a new life," she announced.

"Oh, really? And what might that be?" I sneered.

As sarcastic as I sounded, I was genuinely interested because, even though she was my sister, I had the distinct impression I was talking to a stranger.

"You'll see…it's a surprise," she retorted, sipping her coffee with a raised pinky.

That right there was way out of character, as well. She always drank her coffee from a giant sized mug, wrapping both hands around it. Although she smiled her normal mischievous smile, there was something devious behind it. I didn't like it…at all.

"So, what _are _you going to do today?" I asked.

"I have some…plans, and I need to do some shopping," she replied flippantly

She was being very mysterious and not in a good way. Secretive would be a better word for it. For the second time today, I didn't like what I saw in my sister's expression. Before I could say another word, she stood up and left the table. I gasped out loud startled at the sight before me. He was there, the man in my paintings, outside the window staring daggers at Carrie as she crossed the room. He was transparent, I could see right through him to the magnolia tree outside but he was clearly there.

At the door to the kitchen, Carrie stopped and grabbed the wooden frame for support. She looked as though she were struggling to remain standing.

"Bella, I'm dying!" she cried in a strained whisper, her voice sounding weak and frail.

Jumping up, I ran to her side.

"Carrie! Carrie what's wrong?" I demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders. My heart pounded in my chest, concern for my sister overriding everything else.

"Nothing! I'm dying to get out of here so I can go shopping," she insisted, righting herself. Shaking free of my grasp, she stared at me in contempt and darted out of the room.

I glanced back at the window but the man had disappeared. Had he done something to Carrie? If so, what? Had he hurt her? Could he hurt me, too? Well, the attic would just have to wait. As soon as I cleaned up the kitchen and took a shower, I was heading to the library. It was my only hope.

Carrie was already gone when I stopped by her room on my way out. She hadn't changed a thing in the room but, for some reason, it no longer seemed pretty to me. It seemed excessively dark, too. In fact, it was so dark I didn't want to go in there again.

With a heavy heart and confused mind, I closed the door and left.

~o0o~

I'd just asked the librarian how I would go about learning my family history when the cutest little girl raced up to me and threw her arms around my leg.

"Belle! You're here! Yay! Can you come and read me a story?" she cried, looking up at me with huge, hopeful eyes in an angelic face. Who she was or how she knew my name, I had no idea. She'd said it wrong but it couldn't be a coincidence, could it? I looked to Mrs. Cope for help and an explanation in an awkward situation.

"Mac, this lady has come to do some research. As soon as I get her situated, I'll come read you a story, okay?"

"You can see her, too?" she asked in awe.

"Of course, I can." Mrs. Cope laughed. "Go on now and pick out a book. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

"Fiiine," she sighed, sounding disappointed. Then, to my surprise, she held her arms up to me for a hug and she was such a precious little thing, I couldn't refuse. I bent down and gave her a hug. Beaming a brilliant smile at me, she turned and skipped off to the children's section.

"What an adorable child. How long have you known her?" Mrs. Cope asked as she stepped out from behind the counter.

"I'm sorry, I don't know her. Having just moved to town, I'm afraid I don't know anyone at all, yet," I replied.

"But she called you Bella, I just assumed... Well, she certainly took an instant liking to you," she said, looking as confused as I felt.

"How did you know my name was Bella?" I asked the elderly woman. I hadn't introduced myself to her. All I'd done was say hello and ask about doing research.

"Oh, my dear, everyone in town knows who you are. I'm so sorry about your father. The Chief was a kind man, well-liked by everyone, and how he loved you girls! Why, he talked about you all the time to anyone who would listen. Carried all your latest pictures in his wallet, too. Over at the station, he had an entire collage of you and Carrie in his office. He was such a proud father," Mrs. Cope explained, leading me arm-in-arm through the library like old friends.

I didn't know how to feel about this information. Everyone who knew Charlie swore he dearly loved his daughters and bragged about us all the time yet we knew nothing of him, never having received so much as a card, a letter, a visit…anything. As far as I knew, he never even paid child support. But that was it, wasn't it…_as far as I knew._ Apparently, I didn't know anything about my parents' marriage.

"That's very sweet of you to say. Um...thank you?" I stammered. It was an awkward situation for me to be in and I wasn't sure of the proper response. Thankfully, Mrs. Cope changed topics without batting an eye.

"Edward has the books you need. Perhaps the two of you can share them? Oh, maybe you could even help each other out! Wouldn't that be nice?" she gushed.

_Oh, God…why me?_ I was clunky at best with most people. Around men, I was painfully shy to the point of being a gibbering, bumbling idiot. Maybe he would be so engrossed in his own work, he would just hand me one of the books he wasn't using and leave me in peace. I had no clue what I was doing and I really could use some help. All the same, as we descended into the basement, I said a silent prayer he wouldn't be the chatty type.

I was hidden from the man's view behind a book case when Mrs. Cope told him that I was a shy one. She was right, of course. I could feel the heat and blood rush into my cheeks. _Oh, great!_ Now I was even more embarrassed! Determined to get through the introduction quickly, I took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the book case.

The man was standing up and removing his glasses…and then our eyes met.

"You!"

"You!"

I was stunned. It was him, the man who not only haunted my house but my every waking moment, as well. Or should I say, his look alike haunted me. I mean this was a living, breathing human being but the face was exactly the same. With combed hair, clean shaven face and old fashioned clothes, the ghost was more clean-cut. This man's tangle of wild bronze hair and scruff, very sexy scruff, was more modern looking. As I stood there admiring his face, I realized this was the man I'd seen in the diner the first day Carrie had arrived, the man I'd found to be so utterly beautiful he couldn't possibly be human. How ironic.

"Oh, you two know each other?" Mrs. Cope chirped joyously.

What the hell was I going to say to that? I couldn't very well tell either of them that this man's doppelganger haunted me night and day in more ways than one. Nor could I admit I had practically drooled over him during lunch. To my great relief, he gave the perfect answer.

"Well, no…not exactly, although I've seen her before," he replied.

"I've seen you, too," I admitted. It was the truth, at least.

The man extended his hand, flashed me a stunning smile and said,

"Hello, I'm Edward…Edward Cullen."

**AN: Well there it is! Tell me you thoughts, I'm listening!**

**On a side note, I just wanted to let everyone now that on November 1st 2014, I will be changing my FF author name to the name by which I am best known...RobsFan-tasy. Thanks for reading!**


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